


heaven's in your eyes

by g0ldrush



Series: getaway car [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, porn without plot oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ldrush/pseuds/g0ldrush
Summary: After years of being with Korra, Asami’s learned how to understand her nonverbal cues without having to ask any questions at all. It starts with the way Korra’s fingers brush against hers, running along her engagement ring. Light and innocent, a touch that’s almost barely there. The way Korra’s eyes trail from her eyes to her lips and back up again, the way that her lips slightly part and how her thighs squeeze together in a movement so subtle, that anyone else would miss it.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Series: getaway car [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083503
Comments: 13
Kudos: 148





	heaven's in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn’t wait a whole day to post this so here’s a smut oneshot that solely exists because i listened to lana del rey’s national anthem one too many times:) anyways enjoy the car (limo) sex wooo

They’re fifteen minutes into the limo ride and just getting onto the highway when Korra gets a look in her eye.

It’s a look that Asami knows well. One that means Korra wants to tempt fate just a little, walk on the tightrope a step short of getting in trouble. One that Asami tries to resist, she really does, for the most part. 

Not that she’s ever that successful at it.

They’re on their way to a fundraiser for Korra’s campaign, a black tie event all but guaranteed to hook in the donors with considerably deep pockets that line the insides of their blazers. Asami’s been to enough of these to know how to put her mask on - the false sense of confidence, the fake smile that she flashes to entrepreneurs and investors and heads of multimillion dollar companies who want a candidate that they can stand behind. And as said candidate’s arm candy, Asami’s in for a night of shallow socializing that can sometimes feel more difficult than her days behind a revolver ever did.

Korra’s all pinned hair and expensive perfume, with a shimmer along her skin that glimmers under the soft lights of the limo. She’s sitting demurely, her legs crossed at the ankles but the hooded look of her eyes and the slight curve of her lips betray exactly what she’s thinking.

After years of being with Korra, Asami’s learned how to understand her nonverbal cues without having to ask any questions at all. It starts with the way Korra’s fingers brush against hers, running along her engagement ring. Light and innocent, a touch that’s almost barely there. The way Korra’s eyes trail from her eyes to her lips and back up again, the way that her lips slightly part and how her thighs squeeze together in a movement so subtle, that anyone else would miss it. 

“Korra...” 

It’s a warning, albeit a light one, because Asami knows what’s at stake, knows how important tonight’s fundraiser is. How much the two of them have to be on their best behavior. Which means looking nothing but impeccable, dropping the correct lines on the right donors at the appropriate times, charming everyone’s pants off while also keeping up the appearance of demureness and sophistication.

It also means that indulging now could lead to complications later on in the evening, when her or Korra are too distracted, too busy thinking about when they get to go back to their hotel and undo the zippers that run down their backs. Asami knows it, and she knows Korra does too. That there’s too much risk, too much on the table right now to try anything.

But Korra’s shifting closer to her on the leather seats, the slinky fabric of her dress pooling like liquid gold around her. The way she bites her lip ever so slightly makes Asami want to kiss it, tug on it, smudge the lipstick around the rest of her face. 

It doesn’t matter how long Asami and Korra have been together - there’s something about Korra that never, ever fails to pull Asami right in, like vine tendrils wrapping all around her. Maybe it’s the way her eyes are wide, the way the shimmer on her lids reminds Asami of what they look like when they’re closed, when Korra’s gasping under her. Maybe it’s the way Korra knows all of her buttons and just how to push her too, like how trailing her fingers up Asami’s thigh is a surefire way of undoing her willpower and dismantling any arguments that Asami can present. Because, really, the scratch of Korra’s nails on the skin that peeks through the slit of her dress is light, almost too light, and Asami?

She needs more.

“We still have forty minutes. We are not supposed to get there ‘til eight. That’s not for awhile, y’know.” The words tumble from Korra’s lips with a practiced ease, and Asami’s no stranger to what she’s doing, never has been.

Korra’s perfume is deep, heady, making Asami’s eyes flutter closed, only to snap open when Korra’s hand tugs on her dress and hikes it up. Korra slides off the seat, kneels in front of Asami with such an ease that Asami would think she’s practiced it, along with the way she slides her fingers up Asami’s exposed thighs, goosebumps prickling under her touch.

“What are you-”

“Should I stop?” Korra has the audacity to pause the movement of her hands, and look at Asami with wide eyes and a bated breath. Leaving it in Asami’s court, for her to decide whether they should risk it, give in for the short term satisfaction before the fundraiser. 

Asami’s usually good at risk assessment - her job requires it, depends on the analysis of external factors and their impact on security needs. It’s what’s kept her alive for so long, too, especially back in the days before she’d met Korra. 

But times like these, where the tips of Korra’s fingers are leaving indents in Asami’s thighs as she waits for her answer? 

“Keep going.”

Asami can’t help but give in. 

The smile that curves on Korra’s face is full of pride, a little too satisfied. She pushes Asami’s dress up higher and higher, until Asami can feel the cool breeze of the limo’s air conditioning along the tops of their thighs. Asami shifts herself closer to the edge of the seat, closer to Korra. Presses her heels onto the floor to ground herself, not that it does much when Korra pushes her legs further apart, dots a kiss to the inside of her thigh, the residual lipstick print proof of what they shouldn’t be doing. 

“You’re gonna smudge your lipstick.” The words come out as a grunt when Korra’s fingertips reach the insides of her thighs, already littered with scarlet patterns that trace Korra’s assent along Asami’s skin. 

“Who says I’m not being careful?” Korra’s pout only serves to emphasize her words, because Asami has to admit, her makeup is still flawless. “Don’t wanna get caught either.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Asami’s not sure how they haven’t been yet, from the way Korra’s fiddling with the hem of her underwear, not quite dipping her fingers below the fabric but enough to make Asami shift in her seat and want to get on with it. 

But Korra can be patient when she wants to, taking all the time in the world in moments where she gets Asami more and more wound up. She rests her cheek on one of Asami’s thighs, blinking up at her without so much as a flinch when she traces along her folds through the fabric. 

“Korra-”

“Shh, we still have more than half an hour.”

“Jesus.” 

Asami’s panties are barely there in the first place, under her dress more for the formality of it all but she can tell she’s already soaked them through, and so can Korra from the glimmer in her eyes. Asami desperately wants to knot a hand in Korra’s hair, tug, push her exactly where she wants her to go but she knows that she can’t ruin her, no matter how much she wants to. Not when they have to look like the epitome of polish and poise when they eventually have to leave the limo and face benefactors and donors with crisp smiles on their faces. 

So she can’t get Korra back, not yet. Doesn’t mean plans for later that night are off the table. 

Asami lets her hand trail along the side of Korra’s jaw, behind her ear. Find a place to rest at the nape of Korra’s neck, her skin hot to the touch and her pulse quickening when Asami’s hand applies the slightest bit of pressure. It’s not much control and Asami knows it, but it’s enough to make Korra’s eyes flutter as she tugs Asami’s panties to the side, stuttering in her movements. 

The soft music that plays from the speakers on the ceiling isn’t enough to distract Asami or help her heartbeat slow down when Korra’s index finger teases at her folds, not when she’s so worked up, not after waiting so long. She forces herself to exhale and look straight ahead at the partition that keeps the driver from seeing exactly what they’re doing, as to not let her head fall back against the seat and ruin the immaculate updo she’s sporting for the event. Korra’s fingers circle around her clit, not quite touching, and Asami scowls, pushes herself closer to the edge of the seat, getting out a grunt when Korra pulls her fingers back. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fuck, Asami’s ready to finish the job herself. She’s never been patient. 

Korra’s hiding a barely-concealed smirk, one that Asami wants to wipe right off her face. “You gotta say please.” 

Asami loops her fingers in the locks at the nape of Korra’s neck and tugs, just enough to make Korra’s eyes widen, letting go before doing any more damage to her styled hair. She brings her grip back to Korra’s neck, tightening it ever so slightly, and tilts her head when Korra lets out a slight moan. Korra’s cute, sometimes, for thinking that she’s bested Asami. But after being with Korra for so long? Asami knows exactly what makes her tick.

“Do you really want to make me wait, princess?” 

Korra bringing her fingers back to Asami’s entrance gives her the answer she wants. 

There’s a Kehlani song on the radio that Asami’s heard Korra sing around their apartment, but it’s not enough to drown out the sounds that Korra’s pulling from her, mixed in with gasps that she’s trying to hold in. Korra curls her fingers, speeding up her movements as she presses another light kiss to the inside of Asami’s thigh, and Asami’s seat may as well be the edge of a cliff that she’s falling off of. 

“Fuck, just like that.” Asami gasps when Korra maneuvers her hand so that she can circle her thumb around her clit, because Korra always knows how to undo her, how to push her in ways no others have really been able to. 

Korra’s fingers speed up, unrelenting, though her face is the picture of calm, collected. “You’re so easy, babe.” 

Asami bristles, but it’s hard to argue, make her case when she has to focus her energy on breathing in and out. “No, I’m not.” 

But it’s no use, not when it becomes too much and Asami bites down on the side of her own hand to keep from screaming as she comes, when Korra’s fingers keep going even as she’s gasping, clenching around them, even as she tries to hold back. 

Korra pulls back from her clit first, giving a few more pumps of her fingers before bringing them to her mouth, wrapping her lips around them one at a time and releasing each with a pop once they’re clean. Asami watches breathlessly, her chest rising and falling as Korra puts her panties back in place, tugs the hem of her dress back down. 

“There. Good as new.” 

“If there’s a stain on my dress, I swear to god.” But the words leave Asami’s mouth on a laugh, because fuck, they’re being as stupid as shit and risking way too much but she loves it. 

Not that she’ll readily admit it. 

“And we still have so much time to spare. Man, I’m good.” Korra’s climbing back up onto the seat beside her, and Asami rolls her eyes at the smugness that radiates off of her in waves.

“So cocky.” Asami finds it all too easy, really, to wind an arm around Korra’s waist, and tug her closer and closer until- 

“Hey!” Korra lets out a squeak when Asami lifts her onto her lap, her thighs bracketing either sides of Asami’s hips. Asami feels the way they squeeze around her, and can’t help but smile. 

“You said we still have time, right?” Asami traces her fingers up Korra’s sides, along the boning of her dress that holds her upright. 

Korra shivers, the rise and fall of her ribcage shallow, her eyes alight, and Asami wants to hold her forever. “Yeah.”

“Want you to ride my fingers, baby.”

“Fuck.”

Korra’s cursing into the curve of Asami’s neck as she sinks down, clenching and warm and not needing much preparation before she’s moving against Asami’s hand that’s worked its way under her dress. Asami crooks her two fingers, and Korra’s shudder against her is immediate. There’s wetness along her palm that’s traveling towards her wrist but it doesn’t matter, not when she’s got Korra like this, so desperate and responsive and on the edge of falling apart. 

“Look, you can’t even stop yourself, you need it so bad.” Asami murmurs the words against Korra’s collarbones, presses a light kiss there even though it leaves a stain on her skin. She meets Korra’s movements with her fingers, hooking over the area that never fails to make Korra shudder and the effect is immediate with the way that she gasps and whimpers. 

“Please, please-” 

Korra’s words cut off when Asami pushes in a third finger, no resistance as she does, before steadying the curve of Korra’s hip with her other hand, pulling her further down. Asami pauses, letting Korra have a chance to bring some oxygen back into her lungs before Korra’s the one that’s moving, rocking against her fingers once more and there’s no way that they’re not going to get caught.

The way Korra’s eyes squeeze shut makes Asami marvel a little, and want to memorize each feature of her face when she’s like this, so beautiful and desperate and so, so close. Asami wants to kiss her, wants to lick inside her mouth and have Korra come with her lips against hers, but she knows they can’t. That it wouldn’t end well, that they wouldn’t be able to salvage their makeup from it, that it’ll have to wait until after the fundraiser. But Asami has plans, and making Korra come multiple times over the night is part of them. 

“I know you’re close. You want to come so badly, don’t you?” Asami knows it, from the way Korra’s clenching around her, from how her grip on Asami’s shoulders is iron clad. 

“I-”

Korra’s trying to hold off, trying to wait a little bit, but it’s a lost cause when Asami speeds up her motions, amplifying the slick sound between them along the walls of the limo, brushing the heel of her palm against her clit because she can. Asami’s grip on Korra’s hip tightens, too, pulling her down until there’s no space between them at all, until Korra’s taking as much as Asami can give to her.

When Korra comes it’s with a shudder, another silent scream that more than makes up for the cramping of Asami’s hand, the lactic acid travelling up her forearm. Korra’s trembling, sucking in air and Asami can’t resist a swipe against her clit before pulling her hand away, especially when it makes Korra mewl.

Asami steadies Korra on her lap as she smoothes out the creases in her dress, brushes the sweaty flyaways out of her face that may be salvageable with some bobby pins. But it doesn’t matter, none of it does, when Korra’s sated and a little dazed and still so beautiful.

“Pass me my clutch.” 

“Hmm?”

Korra’s still looking a little bit out of it, with a dreamy smile that’s playing on her lips as she stares down at Asami, still on her lap. Asami lets out a snort, and points to the clutch on the seat. 

“I have some baby wipes. We have about fifteen minutes for damage control.” Asami tilts her head towards Korra’s phone that’s fallen to the floor, lit up with notifications but also giving an indication of the time. 

Korra rolls her shoulders, stretches out her arms before climbing off of Asami, landing on the seat cushion beside her with an undignified oof. “See, this kinda preparation is why I’m gonna marry you.”

“Really?” Asami raises an eyebrow, passing a baby wipe over to Korra’s outstretched hand. “And here I thought it was the diamond ring.” 

“That too.”


End file.
